


No ordinary landscapes

by disappointionist



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: All angst all the way, Angst, Background Relationships, M/M, No happy ending (I'm sorry), Suzy Berhow/Arin Hanson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 15:13:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7443979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disappointionist/pseuds/disappointionist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'When Arin thought about it in hindsight, he never wished for an opportunity to go back and untangle it all.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	No ordinary landscapes

When Arin thought about it in hindsight, he never wished for an opportunity to go back and untangle it all. Because he wouldn't know which knots to loosen anyway.

He asked Dan about it one time, if he thought that here were points in your life where you said one thing that made it all go wrong, but Dan only made a vague noise in reply. Arin thought that the question might both have no answer, and a lot of them at once.

 

* * *

 

They were both exhausted. Arin and Dan on the couch at four thirty in the morning, recording one more episode of a NES adventure game that seemed to be just one never-ending maze.

“This sesh is a lot like this game,” Arin said.

Dan laughed. “Full of centaurs and the same scantily clad lady over and over, yeah I know.”

“Exactly!” Arin exclaimed, turning another corner in the game and immediately falling down a trap door. “Fuck!” he muttered, pausing. “Wait, am I the centaur or the scantily clad lady?”

“Ehhh, next time on game grumps! Maybe we will find out!” Dan said quickly.

“But Dan!” Arin whined. “Don't leave me with a cliffhanger!”

“Well you should have thought about that before you got yourself thrown in the fucking moat,” Dan said, declaring the episode officially over with his tone.

Arin laughed as he leaned forward and scribbled down the time of what was thankfully the last recording they needed.

 

“I can't decide if I'm more tired or hungry,” Arin said when Dan had turned the capture off.  
Dan had drawn his legs up on the couch, wrapping his arms around them.

“I have leftovers since lunch in the fridge, you want them?” Dan asked, looking at Arin out of the corner of his eye.

“Really? Yes. Please. God, you're the best,” Arin said, headbutting Dan in the shoulder before he straightened up and got off the couch.

“Aw, you like me,” Dan said in a sing-song tone that felt as if it still belonged in the recording.

Arin rolled his eyes, but he couldn't resist smiling as he picked the controller up from the table.

“You know I like you,” he said.

“Yeah but you like-like me,” Dan continued in the same manner.

Arin laughed. He never knew how Dan managed to be endearing rather than annoying even after hours and hours of work. He put the controller back where it belonged, wrapping the cord up properly.

“I'm pretty hung up on you, actually,” he said. The words tumbled out of him side by side with his train of thought. That happened sometimes, when being sleepy muted out the think-before-you-speak filter he tried to keep in check otherwise.

“What?” Dan said slowly. His voice drained of all humor.

 

When Arin looked up, Dan seemed way more awake than he had just thirty seconds earlier. Arin would have laughed it off, should have, even. Except he didn't know what to do with the fact that Dan hadn't instantly taken it as a joke. Arin had said stuff like it before, things he kind of actually meant but that they laughed off together.

Only several long moments into some kind of staring contest with Dan, far too late, did Arin realize that he could have saved it if he hadn't freezed up like a frightened animal.

 _Fuck,_ Arin thought, at the same time as Dan said it out loud.

“Is there like...” Arin was scrambling now, backing up several paces until his heels hit the wall behind him. He tried to laugh but it came out awkward and hollow. “I was just kidding, dude” he said, trying a smile even though it felt uncomfortable.

Dan's eyes seemed locked onto Arin. It felt like miles and ages and a huge time lag between them.

“Arin,” Dan said at last.

“Okay, fine, maybe I wasn't kidding, but it's not a big deal, it's just. It's a minor thing and it doesn't even matter. I only meant to joke around.” He paused, tugging at his ponytail as he looked down at the floor. “Just, I'm very tired. Can we please forget this?”

“I mean,” Dan said. “I can fake it. But I'm pretty sure I can't forget it.”

Arin glanced up. “I'm sorry, I really am. God I'm just fucking shit up toda-”

“No, no,” Dan interrupted him, shaking his head. “That's not- that's not what I meant.” He ran his hand through his hair, once, then twice and then three times in a row. “Fuck, I shouldn't be saying this,” he said.

Meanwhile, Arin felt as if his throat was slowly closing up on him. The lack of oxygen shutting down vital parts of him one by one.

“I'll pretend for you, that you didn't mean it, but I won't forget it. I just, I've wanted it?” Dan continued, speaking faster by the second. “At first I didn't even know what was going on, and then I realized and I've been trying to pretend that it's not there, and on some days it works and on other days it doesn't at all. And- and I don't know what kind of person that makes me that I'm telling you this when you're obviously already not too thrilled by it, but I imagine it's not a good one and I-.”

“Dan,” Arin said. Sounding more like a protest than he had intended for it to be.

 

Dan cut himself off mid-rant, his breathing coming in irregular and painful gasps. With this, Arin finally managed to shake himself loose from the instinct to hide against the wall, making his way back to the couch with two long strides. He placed a hand on Dan's back.

“Hey,” Arin said as softly as he could. “Breathe, okay, dude? We're going to talk about this. Just. Just breathe for me first baby, okay?”

“Oh-kay,” Dan gasped, closing his eyes when Arin shushed him.

Arin stroked Dan's back, rubbing his palm up and down along Dan's spine in a slowing rhythm until Dan was breathing in time with the movement.

“There you go,” Arin said, as Dan's breath settled. “You're okay.”

“Shit,” Dan said, his voice jagged. “I'm sorry. Jesus, I didn't mean to throw a fucking panic attack at you to top that off.”

“It's fine. I'm pretty sure I would have had one if you didn't,” Arin said, giving Dan a smile that almost felt light.

“Can you-” Dan cut himself off, his gaze fixed somewhere around Arin's collarbone. “Would you tell me about it?” he asked.

“I don't even know where to start, man?” Arin said slowly. They had gone past the joking without stopping, and he wasn't sure if there was a way to go back. Dan's eyes met his again, brief but there.

“Wherever, really. I think I just, I want you to tell me something,” Dan said.

“It wasn't a realization. I think I just, one day I looked at you and you were laughing at some dumb fucking joke and I was thinking that you look so good when you're laughing, and that I can't believe I can make you do that. And then I started thinking about all the little looks and quirks that you have, stuff that I know better than the back of my own hand, and how I... don't consider that, with any of my other friends. ” Arin said slowly, pausing to take a few, long breaths. “But I never panicked, and perhaps I should have? Because I mean... I can't- I can't, you know?”

Dan looked at him, his pupils wide. Arin could see the faint lines on his face, the tracks, the wear. He wanted to touch them, but he couldn't, paralyzed by the idea that he might be allowed to.

 

“I've wished it was with someone else. Anyone, really,” Dan said.

“I never could do that.” Arin said. He smiled weakly. “It'd be just as bad.” Arin felt like he should apologize, but he wasn't sure how. Instead, he took Dan's hand.

“I'm not sure what to make of any of this,” Dan said. “Like, I don't know if it's sinking in at all.”

“No,” Arin said, shaking his head. “I never even imagined this conversation.”

“I did,” Dan said simply. His smile unbearably sad. “And all it's possible outcomes, I believe.”

“Dan,” Arin said automatically. The name both a protest and a beckoning.

“I dream of you, Arin, and I'm not sure I've even remembered a dream that wasn't a nightmare or a fever haze since I was a kid,” Dan said, letting go of Arin's hand and standing up abruptly, knocking over a, thankfully empty, bottle of water in the process. “Fuck, I'm sorry,” he said, looking at the bottle.

“Dan,” Arin said again, standing as well, even though he suspected that it wasn't the best thing to do. He had that impulse to back away and hide in a corner, when Dan had first started talking. But he also didn't want Dan to run.

“You don't have to be sorry. Or apologize, or any of that shit,” Arin said.

“God,” Dan said, clutching his hand around the hem of his hoodie. “It always hurts more, even when you expect the worst, you know?”

“Yeah,” Arin said, reaching out for him. “I wish-” he started, but the list of his wishes felt suddenly unfathomable.

Dan turned, not needing more convincing than Arin's hand on his arm. It was too close, stung like rubbing alcohol against a still bleeding wound, but Arin let it happen anyway. He wrapped an arm around Dan's waist.

“I know,” Dan said. “You wish it wasn't me, that it wasn't here, that it wasn't mutual, that there was some way or some time or some place.” While he talked, Dan wrapped one arm around Arin and placed his other hand over Arin's chest. Arin drew him in even closer.

“All of those but the first,” Arin said. Because no matter how he had tried to twist that in his head, he had never managed. If he had to feel like this about someone other than Suzy, if he had to be in pain over someone, it would have to be Dan.

 

Dan pressed the side of his face to Arin's, hand clutched protectively around the back of Arin's neck. He was so close, his scent strong enough to make Arin feel sick with dizziness. If he turned his head they would kiss, _If, If, If._

”Maybe we're just not made for each other in this lifetime,” Dan whispered, his breath warming the skin behind Arin's left ear.

Arin thought, _Or maybe we are, maybe that's why you replied to that message, maybe that's why we became co-workers and best friends. Maybe that's why you're one of the best things I have and I am burning up with this feeling that I can't afford losing you._

“Maybe not,” Arin said. He could almost taste Dan's skin just from the near proximity of it, and he tightened his hands where he had clutched them in Dan's t-shirt. Red blaring warning lights, a constant beeping in his head telling him; _No, not ever closer than this._

“What are you thinking?” Dan asked, and he sounded almost surprised, as if he hadn't meant to speak at all.

“It's all going a little too fast for me to know,” Arin said truthfully, and then, contemplating the feeling of Dan's t-shirt around his fingers, he said. “I want you, and right now that's fucking killing me Daniel.”

“I know, I know,” Dan said, his chest vibrating with his unsteady breathing. “I know.”

 

 _Let's kiss and have it over with,_ Arin thought irrationally, with the part of him that wanted, and that would never have enough.

“I'm a terrible person,” Arin whispered, the last word broken by a sob. He felt Dan's hand, balled into a fist between them, slam against his chest once.

“Don't fucking say shit like that,” Dan hissed, so furious it made Arin want to squeeze his eyes shut. “You're so amazing Arin. You're a good person. A great person, if you weren't, then trust me, we would not be standing here right now.”

_Does it really matter that I'm not doing any of it? When all I think about when I look at you or touch you or smell you this close is how much I need your mouth on me, how much I want to taste you just once, and then twice and then at least a billion times more. I crave, Dan. You make me feel like I'm fucking starving._

Arin went cold with the realization that his mouth was dry from saying that out loud. His head tipped slightly forward.

“Arin,” Dan said, choking back something more, a pet name maybe, one that no longer felt right.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Arin muttered into Dan's hoodie. “I didn't mean to say that out loud,” he laughed bitterly. “I seem to be doing that a lot right now.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Dan said. He sounded like he was in pain, and Arin wondered if Dan's heart too was pounding so hard it shook him from the inside.

“You don't get to talk down on yourself on my watch, not when I'm standing right here knowing that none of it is your fault,” Dan continued.

Arin turned his head to the side. He contemplated the skin of Dan's neck, the shade of it, the tautness over his adam's apple. Arin felt sick, and he wished that he actually was, that there was some way to save him from this.

“Then whose fault is it?” he said, and he felt as if he had been shouting for a day and a half.

“No one's, Arin. Jesus Christ. It's one of these things where no one does anything and it fucks up anyway.” Dan sounded close to actually angry. But Arin knew it wasn't directed at him.

“I'm sorry,” Arin said at last, and he meant for everything.

“I know. I'm sorry too,” Dan said.

 

Arin hoped that staying in contact would somehow magically say all those things he knew that they should talk about, what would happen next and what they would do. But nothing like it happened. No sudden sense of clarity, no heavenly choir, no background soundtrack. Just the two of them, breathing with each other and not wanting to let go.

Arin was afraid, because he wasn't sure that he'd be able to stop from reaching out to touch Dan if he got too far away. He was afraid because that might mean they had another problem, one where Arin needed Dan physically there as an anchor. He was afraid that when they let go and left for home, all the reality of it would hit him, and he suddenly wouldn't feel capable of bearing it at all.

“I love you,” he whispered into Dan's hair. Needed him to know that it was true even in this.

“I love you too,” Dan said, gently stroking Arin's back.

 

They parted quietly that night. Turned off the office lights at a steady pace, picking up their jackets and their keys, and slowly moved outside. Arin didn't eat the leftovers, he wasn't hungry anymore. When Arin let go of Dan's jacket sleeve so that they could each go to their cars, they barely whispered a goodnight.

Neither of them had said that they believed they could get through it. Arin knew it was because they didn't feel like lying that much to each other.

 

* * *

 

A week passed, and it was agony. Normal workdays, a normal weekend with no change of routine. Even though Arin had a battle inside of him, everything just moved as usual around him. It felt wrong, like a dissonance around his every movement, every word.

Arin didn't talk to anyone about it. He had tried so many times to find the right words to start with when telling Suzy, even before he accidentally told Dan, but he never arrived at any conclusion. He wished he could accidentally tell her too, or anyone for that matter. He didn't even know if Dan wanted to talk about it more either. Probably not if he felt what Arin felt, that it hurt to breathe just looking at him.

 

It had been a relief to see that there were mostly recordings scheduled where there were more of them. Three or four in the room at the same time, which had kept Arin's silences filled, and his jokes easier to bounce against the others. But eventually, he had to work alone with Ross for a steam train series, and Arin knew he didn't come off as usual. He could hear it in his own voice, and in the way his jokes hit right, but never all the way. But it would be good enough for a few episodes, they had done worse on not-great days before, during sickness, or lack of sleep or food.

They had been working for about forty minutes, when in between episodes, Ross silently crawled over the empty space on the couch and opened his arms wide. He wasn't laughing or grinning and they weren't recording.

“What are you doing Ross?” Arin asked sceptically, still keeping a smile on his face, because there had to be a punchline to this.

Ross kept his arms open wide, his face calm.

“Don't say a word because I believe it's none of my business,” Ross said. “But you need a fucking hug, man.”

“Ross,” Arin said, but he couldn't argue with that, because it was true.

“I said just shut up,” Ross reminded him.

Arin sighed, but put his water bottle down and turned slightly. Ross wrapped his arms around him. It felt easy, and frankly almost overwhelmingly reassuring, and definitely not at all like a joke.

“You're not gonna bully me about it?” Arin asked slowly, once they had pulled apart.

Ross' smile was back, but he merely shrugged. “Nah man, some off-days are just off and it can help to be funny about it. Other shit goes deeper than that.”

Arin quirked an eyebrow at him. “And only hugs help?”

“Well not only,” Ross said. “Though mine are particularly awesome.”

“Sure dude,” Arin said. He grinned, as if he was teasing, and it felt a little easier to do it that way. “So, another episode?”

“Yep. Three more to go,” Ross informed him, leaning forward, frowning in deep and focused mock-concentration. “Let's do this.”

Arin laughed. “I'm glad you're so dedicated to this mall mystery,” he said. Just before Ross turned the caption back on, Arin nudged his side with his elbow.

“Thanks man,” Arin said.

“Any time,” Ross told him, and it came out as the most obvious thing in the world.

When they started the episode, Arin really did wish that a bunch of hugs would be enough to fix him.

 

* * *

 

On day nine, Arin walked out of the office in the middle of the day because he couldn't stand the way his ears were buzzing. He told everyone he was going out for lunch alone, turned off his phone, got in the car and drove to the ocean.

He sat down on the sand, stretching his legs out in front of him and gazed out at the nearly invisible horizon. Pale gray against a more blueish hue. Dan hated the ocean, but Arin's fingers were itching to call him, to have him there, even if it was just his voice. They had recorded twice since that night, they were still managing. Arin thought that perhaps he was still pretending. That this was him and his best friend and that the feeling he would get when Dan would look at him in a certain way was just familiarity and happiness. On the grump couch, in the grump space and sometimes even at home in front of the TV, Arin pretended that he wasn't in love.

He hadn't used those words, that phrase, when he told Dan about it. Because being in love felt irreversible to Arin, undeniable. In love meant that no matter what he did after this, there would be a piece of Dan in him which he could never let go of, the same way he had kept other loves before Suzy with him too. They didn't hurt the same way with time, but they never just vanished either.

 

He held his still turned off phone in his hands and looked at it. If he closed his eyes he could see every text he wouldn't send to Dan. Every thought, every feeling that lingered for more than a second in his mind. Arin had never felt so in need of crying and yet so unable to do so.

When he no longer knew how much time had passed, he forced himself to get up and drive back to work. Hours later, when he finished up for the day, he met Dan's eye across the desks while digging through his pocket for his phone, but his fingers found only sand.

 

* * *

 

There was no beginning, Arin realized when he looked at Suzys reflection in the mirror. After eleven days of silence, there was no way to begin talking. He just had to, no matter what he'd end up saying.

Suzy was removing her makeup, efficent and thorough, as always. Arin never could manage to get that part down, and would have eyeliner smudging his eyes for days after recording one video or one stream. He had finished brushing his teeth, but still held onto the toothbrush.

“Suzy... Suze,” he said. And maybe it was the echo of the bathroom, but it sounded off.

Suzy didn't turn her head. “Yeah baby?”

“I love you, I love you so fucking much,” Arin said.

Suzy smiled, soft and a little weary as she finished wiping her face with a cotton pad and threw it in the trashcan.

“Arin,” she said with a sigh as she turned toward him. “You're not okay, are you?”

“No.” Arin said. “No. I'm not. Not at all.”

“Okay,” Suzy said, nodding, reaching for his hands and holding onto them. “Do you want to talk about how we could make that better?”

“I think I need to... I need to take a break. Maybe. Or maybe I can't work on Grumps at all anymore. I just... Fuck,” he paused to catch his breath, and he met Suzy's eyes. “I just know I can't do this.”

“Baby,” Suzy said fondly. Her hands squeezed his. “You need to tell me what's happening,”

“I love Dan,” he said, surprised at just how pained it came out. Just when he thought it wasn't as bad, it felt like a hundred times more. “I love him and I want him and I'm in love with him and I can't be with him and I know that. I even thought I had _accepted_ that... but it's eating me up,” he said, words falling out of him. He let them go. Part of him wanted to be able to look up and see Suzy's expression, but he couldn't, overwhelmed by a kind of lightness. When he started crying, it felt like weeks overdue.

 

Suzy caught him, and Arin thought that it was what she had always done, wrapping her arms around his back as she let him lean on her.

“Does he know?” Suzy asked, and she sounded like she was on the verge of crying too.

Arin squeezed his eyes shut, because he hadn't considered it before then, that this might be the greatest betrayal out of the ones he was currently listing in his head. Dan knew, and Suzy didn't.

“Yeah,” he said, although he supposed she had already guessed.

“Okay,” Suzy said, even though she sounded small and broken. Even though nothing at all was okay. “Did he... did he turn you down?”

“What?” Arin asked, voice squeaking. “No. No, I mean, shit, Suzy, it wasn't a proposition, it wasn't even on the table, for god's sake. I mean, I'm not all that great given recent events, but I could never ever do that to you.”

“Oh,” Suzy said.

 

When Arin pulled away from her embrace so that he could look at her properly, she was looking down at her feet before taking a step back.

“I told him even though I didn't mean to. That part was a mistake. But I never... Suzy, for as much of an asshole I've been, I was clear on the fact that I couldn't let anything happen. Ever,” he said. He wanted to reach for her hand, but he wasn't sure if she would let him.

“So this isn't a-” Suzy said slowly, pausing.

“Oh no, no. No. Jesus, no. I'm not-” Arin trailed off. “Fuck,” he sighed. “I'm gonna start over, okay?” He searched her eyes and after a second, she nodded.

“I love you. I'm even more in love with you than the day I first realized that I was, even though I never thought that was possible.” He tried to speak slower, worried that his voice was trying to keep up with his brain and that it wouldn't make any sense to listen to. “I'm not telling you this because I want to leave you, I'm telling you this because I'm your husband and I feel like you need to know, I feel that I owe you that honesty.”

Suzy bit her lip, and then she reached for his hand. “Okay. Just... can we... I think I need to not be in the bathroom for this.” she said.

Arin smiled. It made him realize that his lips were wet from crying. He wiped at his cheeks with the sleeve of his hoodie in attempt to not feel like such a total mess.

 

Suzy led them both into the living room which was dark and had the cats occupying half of the couch. The two of them squeezed in on the remaining space and Suzy turned on the lamp on the sideboard.

She didn't ask Arin to tell her about it. She didn't have to. He turned toward her, holding her hands in his, and told her everything. It was jumpy and jumbled and at times probably made very little sense as big portions of it was just his thinking. But Suzy listened to every word, her eyes calm and patient on Arin's, even when he cried for the second time that evening. He didn't know if it were out of hopelessness or relief.

 

When Arin ran out of things to say, Suzy wiped his cheeks with her thumbs and nodded when he asked for at least the fiftieth time if they would be okay.

“Can I ask something now?” she said.

“Yeah, of course,” Arin said. “Anything.”

“I just... Dan. He wanted to- he wanted you too?” she asked, voice wavering.

Arin nodded, then he stopped and frowned, biting his lip before gesturing vaguely with his hands.

“I mean, I don't know, Suze. All we have is this situation, this thing where nothing can happen, so maybe it's just wanting to in theory, who the fuck knows,” he said.

“He wouldn't do that,” Suzy said quickly, her voice sharp. “Sorry,” she said, looking down at her lap, cheeks turning pink. “I just don't want you to think that he would. Because it's not true.”

Arin smiled weakly before leaning in, kissing her softly on the cheek, and then once more on the mouth. “Thank you,” he said.

“I don't just stop being your best wife overnight,” Suzy told him, tipping her head forward to lean against his chest.

“Or ever?” Arin asked slowly.

“Or ever.” Suzy replied, finding his hand and twining their fingers together.

 

* * *

 

 **Arin:**  
I told Suzy.

**Dan:**

Are you okay?

   Both of you.

**Arin:**

Yeah. I mean. No. But yeah.

   Don't feel bad. Please don't feel bad.

   I just needed to talk to you

   Dan? **:/**

**Dan:**

Sorry. I had to excuse myself from a thing.

**Arin:**

You didn't have to do that.

**Dan:**

Of course I did.

   Call me?

**Arin:**

OK Give me ten.

**Dan:**

No problem

 

**Arin:**

This is gonna sound super gay but I really needed to hear your voice

**Dan:**

Arin?

**Arin:**

What?

**Dan:**

That's really gay.

 

 

* * *

 

Some days, he would sit in silence with Dan and they'd have a conversation that way. Endlessly trying to work out all these things that they weren't saying out loud.

It didn't solve anything, that Suzy knew, but Arin felt a little lighter. He slept easier, and worked himself just a fraction below too hard. He kept his head over the surface.

 

* * *

 

“Arin?”

“Yeah?” Arin rolled over on the bed so that he could look at Suzy in the dim light.

“I've been thinking. A lot,” she said.

Arin waited for her to go on, even if it terrified him to hear those words from Suzy outside of his own worst case scenarios.

“I even did some, like, research and stuff?” she continued.

“Research?” Arin said. He didn't catch up. Suzy had made a sharp turn onto an entirely different conversation than the one Arin thought they were going to have.

“Polyamory, I guess,” Suzy said. A moment passed during which Arin could have said something, but felt unable to. “I just, I wanted to be able to imagine it. And how it would work, so I read all these blogs and wikis and stuff...”

Arin didn't ask why she hadn't told him about it. There was a softness to her voice and expression that made him refrain from it.

“I just... I want you to know that I did this because I wanted to look you in the eye by the end of it and say that I could do that, that you could go ahead and like, date... someone else, and all of what that would mean,” Suzy said.

 

Arin could tell that she was hurting. They knew each other that well, he knew her. Tentatively, he moved closer, embracing her as he pressed kisses to her cheek and forehead and jaw. She was trembling, and Arin knew she had always hated being the bearer of bad news, especially to him.

“Shh,” he said soothingly. “It's okay, I know,” he said.

“I can't. I mean, I've tried to figure out why, because I wanted to, but I just... I can't,” Suzy said.

Arin stroked her hair, he whispered to her that it was fine, that they were fine, that they'd always be fine. They weren't alright in every way, but they would be fine together.

“Thank you, for telling me,” Arin said after a while, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“I worried so much that I'd end up hurting you,” she said.

Arin shook his head and smiled. “You couldn't,” he said. “Well you do have kind of sharp elbows, but other than that, you couldn't.”

Suzy didn't smile, but she looked at Arin so fondly that it felt like one.

“You should get some rest,” Arin said. “You think you can do that?”

Slowly, Suzy reached up and cupped his face in her hand, stroking the pad of her thumb over his cheek.

“It's okay with me if you're not here if I wake up,” Suzy whispered to him, pressing her nose against his. “I know you might not be able to sleep now... And you don't have to lie here and stare at the ceiling for my sake.”

“I can't just leave,” Arin protested.

“I'll be asleep,” Suzy said. She closed her eyes for a long while. “If you're awake you might as well get something done.”

“Suzy-” Arin started.

Suzy shushed him, taking his hand and turning in his arms so that they were spooning.

“I'll still be here in the morning,” she said, pausing to draw in a long breath. “You should talk to him. Or see him, if you can. Go.”

She didn't add 'before I change my mind', didn't leave him an option. Arin opened his mouth to thank her, or whisper that he loved her, or both.

“Shhh, sleeping,” Suzy said, before he had even gotten more than a breath past his lips.

 

He stayed with her, body curled up against hers until long after had fallen asleep. Her hand lay slack over his own, and even as he sat up he couldn't stop looking at it. He tucked her in before he left the room, grabbing his clothes on the way.

He had a night, which was one more than he had thought he would have two hours previous, a week previous even. Suzy had wanted him to have it, and she had known that Arin would take it without argument for once. They knew each other that well.

 

* * *

 

Arin walked outside and sat on his doorstep and called Dan. It wasn't really a choice, he had to and he did it automatically. It was past one o clock and still, Dan picked up on the second ring, answering by saying Arin's name in a way that sent shivers through Arin's entire body.

“I need to drive,” Arin said.

“Pick me up in ten. I'll be outside,” Dan replied, and there wasn't even a hint of a pause.

Arin wondered how Dan knew, but perhaps that was just the way it fell into place.

 

Dan was wearing his favorite jeans, a grey t-shirt, leather jacket over hoodie. Arin felt like crying with the familiarity when Dan opened the passenger seat door and got in.

Dan didn't ask where they were going, Arin was glad that he didn't have to say that they weren't really going anywhere at all. Still, he drove to the Angeles Crest Highway, because going to the ocean with Dan at one thirty in the night felt weird, and Dan wasn't scared of mountain lions.

 

“Take the next left,” Dan said, which was the first either of them had said since Arin asked if Dan had wanted the radio on.

Arin turned onto a narrow road with trees on both sides. After a while, it opened up onto what seemed like a lookout point. A few rustic looking tables and an information board visible in the headlights. Arin stopped the car, but didn't get out. They sat quiet in the darkness for what was either minutes or very, very long seconds.

“Suzy told me she had been thinking about it. Like, really considering it. Me, and you. Dating, I suppose? Or at least working something out,” Arin said.

“What?” Dan said.

“Yeah she had done all this research and shit? Like just, I didn't even know,” Arin said. He tipped the car keys from one hand and into the other.

“I didn't even think she would consider it,” Dan said quietly, looking at Arin. “I mean, mostly because I didn't want to think about it, because then I wouldn't have been able to think about anything else.”

“No, I know,” Arin said. “I didn't want to hope,” he said slowly. The unspoken 'and yet', clear between them.

“Now I'm glad we didn't,” Dan said, voice strained.

“Yeah,” Arin agreed, and for once, it hurt him to know that Dan just understood, that Dan knew what Arin would say, before he said it.

“I need to get out of this car,” Dan said before he opened the door and stepped out into the night.

Arin counted to five in an attempt to ground himself, before following suit. He walked slowly over to where Dan stood looking out over the landscape.

 

It wasn't completely dark. There was the moon, some stars, faint lights from the highway behind them, artificial lights scattered where the horizon stretched out, uninterrupted by peaks and trees in one direction.

“What do we do?” Dan asked, the wind was ruffling his hair.

“I'm thinking I might take a break. I mean- I never have. So maybe I could.” Arin said. He dug the toe of his shoe into the ground.

“I wasn't talking about Grumps, Arin. Fuck all of that,” Dan said. His tone made Arin look up.

“Jesus, Dan,” he said.

“Yeah, well, I mean-” Dan said, running a hand through his hair. -“I don't mean that. Just, right now. I don't want this to be a business transaction.”

“It's not...” Arin said. “It's not.”

“Then work can fuck off for now,” Dan said.

Arin managed a smile. “Yeah. Alright,” he said.

 

Dan walked over to a sloping cliff, sitting down on it after examining the surface. Arin followed him, trailing behind, hesitating for a few moments longer before sitting, close enough for their arms to touch.

“I don't know,” Arin said. “I don't know what we do. I don't know how it will feel or how it will work out.”

“It already hurts like fuck. But it'll fade. Heartbreak does that for you,” Dan said, pressing his palm against the stone.

“I keep thinking it's not the same? Like, every other time before I've had a broken heart because it wasn't mutual or whatever. Never because it was,” Arin said.

“I don't think it has ever hurt in the same for me any of the times I've been in love,” Dan said.

Arin's breath hitched. “You're in love with me?” he asked.  
“Arin,” Dan said, rolling his eyes.

Arin put his hand on Dan's knee. “I'm serious,” he said.

There was a pause as they both looked at each other. Dan possibly trying to figure out if Arin really wasn't joking, Arin with his heart racing in spite of knowing better.

“Yeah. Yes, Arin,” Dan said eventually.

“Shit,” Arin said. When he laughed, it was short, choked out and more frustrated than anything else. “Sorry... What I meant was, I'm in love with you too.”

“God I hate it when you're terrible and endearing at the same time,” Dan said

“I know,” Arin said.

Dan placed his hand on top of Arin's where it still lay on his knee. He was frowning when he met Arin's eye.

“Why are we here, Arin?” he asked.

Arin tried to smile, but he felt like he couldn't get the right muscles to work. With a sigh, he squeezed Dan's knee, before he pulled his hand away from Dan entirely.

“Because Suzy told me to go, and I did. Even though that's selfish and possibly, rather stupid,” he said.

“It's not,” Dan said. “I needed this too.”

“I think-” Arin said, pausing. He looked away from Dan. -“Tonight... Fuck. Suzy wanted me... us to have tonight. Which, is more than she had to give, and more than I even know if I'm willing to take.”

“If you can, let her know I'm grateful?” Dan said, reaching up to toy with the hair that had come loose from Arin's ponytail at the nape of his neck.

“I will,” Arin said, sighing more because of the touch than weariness.

“It would have killed me to have this conversation somewhere else, or to feel like we couldn't even have it at all,” Dan admitted. “Even if it means that I have to struggle with knowing I could probably kiss you, and thinking that it's probably best for the me of the future if I don't.”

“I'm thinking it will kill me either way,” Arin said truthfully.

“Yeah,” Dan smiled. “Better not, right?”

“Yeah,” Arin agreed. “Can we still-” he said, interrupted by Dan moving closer.

“Yes, definitely,” Dan said, wrapping his arm around Arin's waist.

Arin let out a breath, looking over at Dan before slowly moving, lifting himself up so that he ended up sitting between Dan's legs, leaning back against Dan's chest. He felt Dan press his lips against the top of his head, and he smiled at that. There was something so fond and so Dan in that gesture, that if Arin didn't close his eyes, he could think for the next few minutes that everything was all good.

 

“We should get going,” Arin said at last, when he had to admit it to himself that it was getting rather cold sitting on a stone surface in the middle of the night.

“Yeah.” Dan said. He gave Arin a helpful shove as he got up. Taking Arin's offered hand in return to pull himself to his feet. They stared at each other, Dan's hand in Arin's, close but not too close. With an exhale that even Arin could hear, Dan was the first of them to turn away and start walking toward the car.

“Dan,” Arin said, catching Dan by the sleeve. “Wait.”

Dan moved as if they had planned it out, as if Arin had sent him a fucking schedule for how exactly they were going to step through this. He spun around and Arin wasn't sure if he was pulling Dan into his arms or not. But Dan was there, and his mouth was pressed against Arin's. It tasted like lightning and bliss, and it felt like burning.

 

They tumbled to the ground, Arin holding onto Dan's jacket, pulling Dan along with him when he lost his footing. But even as Arin made a pained noise on impact with the ground, they didn't stop touching. Dan was on top, body settled between Arin's legs. The kiss shifting between mellow and exploring, desperate and dirty.  
Arin's brain must have either short-circuited or started working at a pace that was just incomprehensible, because he couldn't think of anything except how he felt, how Dan felt pressed against him, how they tasted mingled together and how his heart was beating so hard it felt like it was way up in his throat.

Dan kept whispering with his spare breaths. Little fragments of what might be lyrics, where Arin's name worked as a chorus. Arin wanted to answer, but he didn't know how, he splayed his hand over Dan's chest, right over his heartbeat instead, and hoped that it conveyed what he wanted to say in return. _I hear you, god, I hear all of you and it's better than I ever could have imagined even when I've missed you or longed for you the most._

“Can I ask for too much?” Dan asked as he pulled back from the kiss.

Arin shook his head, not knowing if he meant that there was no too much or if he didn't want Dan to ask in the first place. They breathed together, warming the air between them as Dan leaned in again, his hand resting on the slope of Arin's neck.

“Let's not have a last one,” Dan said, his lips brushing against Arin's as he spoke.

“Dan,” Arin said, even though he had already leaned into that small space and closed it. “I don't want to- You know how sometimes I say my head's too loud so you'll need to talk over it? Can you get me there now?” he said.

Dan closed his eyes. “Yeah,” he said.

 

Arin didn't feel cold anymore, and he only barely remembered how to think in fragments. Dan was everywhere, on him and around him. Where he turned his head there would be Dan's hair, wherever he moved his hands there would be Dan's chest or his arms or the comfort of his leather jacket. They breathed each other in and out, and Arin wondered if they could kiss each other long enough to taste like one another rather than themselves.

“Fuck it, let's not go home yet,” Arin's voice trembled, but he said it anyway.

“That's a terrible idea,” Dan said. “But god help me if I don't want to.”

It sounded to Arin as if Dan was breaking, so he put his hand on Dan's cheek and smiled.

“We don't have to,” Arin said.

“Let's do it,” Dan whispered, and it didn't sound like any other time that Arin had heard him accept an idea.

 

When it started to drizzle, a fine mist of rain, they finally got up and went back to the car.

They shared the back seat, chest to ribcage, legs tangled together. They talked, mostly, though not a single word about the things that lay ahead of them. It wasn't a decision as much as a silent agreement, to pretend to be at the end of a ridiculously long date, not wanting to meet a curfew they had both long since passed.

Outside of the car, the rain changed character, smattering faster against the roof and windows. Arin latched onto a joke, and Dan followed that same line of thought, passing it over to Arin, keeping at it until Dan broke the chain with a kiss. Their mouths pressed together talked in an entirely different way, their kisses speaking about things that didn't even have words. Their bodies strangely angled in the cramped space, their thoughts occupying the same headspace.

 

When morning broke, dark gray and still raining heavily, Arin sighed into Dan's mouth and rubbed his palm over the bulge in Dan's pants. Dan's breath stuttered and caught, and Arin knew a thing or two about aching. He stopped his movements entirely, drawing back enough to look Dan in the eye.

“Yes, please,” Dan said, before Arin had formed the first word in his mind.

Neither of them seemed to want to talk at length anymore. Avoiding conversations that would let slip that they both knew this was so good it had to be bad, and that when the sky outside turned pale white, they would no longer belong to each other.

Dan tangled his fingers in Arin's hair, the elastic that held the ponytail hours earlier long lost somewhere between outside and the car. When Dan tipped his head back against the car window, Arin paused, taking all of him in, saving it in a compartment in his head. Slowly, he unbuckled Dan's jeans and tugged them down. He moved down Dan's body, pulling his t-shirt up, pressing kisses into Dan's hips, his tongue dampening the skin of Dan's inner thighs through his underwear. Arin moved like he knew what he's doing, and what he wanted, because he couldn't keep himself from it.

Dan's dick was hard, and heavy, and so close. Arin had always found the idea of Dan's dick intriguing, but he had never imagined wanting it this much. He hadn't even imagined wanting Dan this much.

Dan lifted his hips off the back seat when Arin hooked his fingers in the waistband of his boxers. His breath hissed out of his nose as Arin ran his fingers over his length.

Arin touched gently, mapping out the feel of Dan in his hand. For a moment, he had to close his eyes. He knew what he wanted it to feel like, he didn't have to overthink it. Drawing in a long breath, he leaned in, barely hesitating before running his tongue along the underside of Dan's dick. Pulling back when Dan hissed, reassured again when Dan stroked the nape of his neck. He leaned back in. Rubbing his thumbs in slow circles over Dan's thighs as he slid his tongue over Dan's length again. slower. The third time, he looked up, at Dan's chest, bared by his hiked up t-shirt, at his mouth, his teeth biting down on his lip, his cheeks that were red from both warmth and Arin's stubble. Dan's eyes were open, looking back at Arin, studying him.

Some of Arin's insecurity faded briefly, because it was clear that however he looked at that moment, Dan found it worthy of remembering in detail. Arin moved his hand to brush it over Dan's dick, the base of his shaft, circling round to cup his balls. Dan drew in a sharp breath and held it for several seconds, before Arin actually parted his lips and took Dan into his mouth. It was sloppy because it was greedy and new. Arin repeated the licking, tried sucking, tried lowering his head to see what it would feel like, to see if he could have Dan's entire length in his mouth. He gasped when Dan's hips jerked, and he had to pull back.

“Sorry,” Dan said, voice hoarse.

Arin's stomach surged. He smiled a little, moving closer, kissing the side of Dan's shaft, the laughter that bubbled up in him dying out when he looked up, and Dan looked like he was unraveling rather than finding Arin ridiculous.

“'s okay,” Arin said. “I know what it's like.”

He started again, slowly at first, one hand on Dan's hip as he tried to find out how much of Dan's dick he could take, pressing his tongue against the underside, pulling back, trying again. He let Dan guide him into a rhythm, following Dan's moans, the movements of his hips, and the way his hand would clutch and relax in Arin's hair.

Arin knew that there would be no way for him to file away and forget what Dan tasted like, all of it's shades. His moans tasted of metal, his skin of salt water and spices, his shuddering body of fingerprints in leather.

 

Dan gasped, clutching at Arin's shoulder and at his hair, and Arin could swear he had never seen Dan look this raw and yet so beautiful before.

“Arin, c'mere,” Dan said, softly. Nothing at all like his desperate hands. He was trembling, and Arin didn't want to stop, because everything about it made him dizzy.

 

Arin could never forget, that when he pressed a kiss to Dan's thigh, Dan finally sighed a 'Please' and they both knew what he meant. He left a reddish bruise an inch from Dan's hipbone, and Dan curled his hand over it when Arin pulled back.

 

Dan hiked Arin up and into his arms, hooking his legs around Arin's back. Everything about how they were fitting together was perfect, and everything about how they tried to fit into the back seat of a car was not. It was awkward and strained, arms resting on backrests, hands pressed against front seats, a foot against a window to get them where they wanted to be: Arin panting against Dan's chest, hissing as Dan tugged Arin's sweatpants down and wrapped his long fingers around both of their dicks.

It felt like nothing else Arin had ever experienced because while it was messy and sweaty like his teenage fumblings, it was also both needy and calculating. Dan seemingly pending between a need to get himself off, and to make Arin fall apart as much as he possibly could.

At first, Arin could only curse, and then he could only say Dan's name, mingled with soft gasps that would have been pleas if he could have managed as much. He nuzzled his face into Dan's chest and kept it there, where he could hear Dan's heart racing.

Dan came first, shaking, voice cracking on Arin's name in a way that made Arin hold his breath until he could let it out in wet kisses against Dan's neck.

“Arin, Arin, look at me?” Dan whispered.

Arin looked up, lips parted and breath uneven as Dan shifted his grip, wrapping his fingers around Arin's dick and starting up his pace again. Their eyes fixed on each others'. Arin's moans latched onto the next, then Dan's name, then a please, then another moan. It was intimate and hot and Dan's hand seemed to reach everywhere, pick up on every gasp. Not caring anymore, Arin thrust his hips into Dan's hand, needing more, faster and tighter.

“Dan,” he said, the tip of his nose brushing against Dan's.

“I got you,” Dan whispered. He held Arin tighter, pressing their bodies together, tightening his grip and working his fingers up and down, quicker, a little rough, a little irregular. His eyes were dark, pupils wide, and Arin kept looking into them even as he thought he couldn't even hold his body up for much longer. He only shut his eyes when it became too much, when everything felt at once overwhelming and wonderful and almost aching, the second before he came all over Dan's hand and their stomachs.

 

It had stopped raining when they at last abandoned the back seat. All of Arin's limbs ached, in the buzzing way that strain and sex and lack of sleep would make him feel. He wished he could send thanks to his past self for the tissues in the glove compartment.

Before Arin started the car, Dan reached over and took his hand. Arin met his eye and nodded, because he understood that they couldn't linger once they were in town, once they were outside of Dan's house. He let the car keys go and leaned toward Dan, Dan met him halfway.

Dan kissed him softly. Arin gave Dan a chaste peck in return. Dan's hands were in Arin's hair and the kiss was harsh and burned of stubble. Arin clawed at Dan's chest with his fingertips and kissed him deep and luxurious and long. Dan whispered I love you against Arin. Arin moaned I love you into Dan. Dan bit Arin's lower lip. Arin kissed him without coming up for air. Dan mumbled endearments into his mouth. Arin breathed against Dan's lips. Caressing Arin's face, Dan made fifty shorter kisses into one. Arin chased Dan's mouth with his own. Dan smashed his lips against Arin's.

Arin didn't remember which had been the last one. His head filled with what could have been spaced out over time but had ended up restricted to those minutes before he turned the key in the ignition and drove out of the woods and back out onto the highway.

 

Dan kept one hand against the windowpane, and the other on Arin's leg for the entire drive back to L.A. It was a silent drive, but a soft quiet. The one that appeared almost exclusively on very early mornings on the way to something.

When Arin parked on Dan's street, everything Arin could think of to say felt wrong and out of place. Dan was quiet too, and at last he opened the door, only to shut it again. Arin frowned while Dan pulled his jacket and hoodie off.

“Trade me?” Dan said, holding the sweater up in one hand.

Without saying anything, Arin shrugged his own hoodie off and handed it over. Their fingers touched in the exchange.

“Thanks,” Dan said.

“Get some sleep,” Arin told him.

When Dan smiled tiredly, holding Arin's hoodie against his chest before he climbed out of the car, Arin thought for about three seconds that he would die. Then Dan shut the passenger side door, and Arin counted to ten before he drove away. He knew he had to leave because he felt like he couldn't.

 

Arin drove through early morning traffic until he got to a mall which had not yet opened for the day. In the pale light he sat in the scent of warm leather, and sex, and Dan.

Dan, Dan, Dan everywhere. He tried to cry, but something was caught within him and he only ended up sobbing dryly, painfully gasping instead. When the first cars rolled in on the parking lot around him, he started the car and drove back home. He didn't linger in the parking lot, didn't stay a second longer in the car. Instead, he went straight inside, fed the cats, took a quick and chilly shower, and made breakfast for himself and Suzy. And that was that.

 

* * *

 

It was barely two month's leave, but Arin took it. He visited his parents and Suzy even took a couple of weeks off to go away with him.

As expected, he grew restless quickly, full of ideas which he tried to get out by accepting guest visits on shows he wouldn't have had time to do otherwise, some voice-over work and a surprising amount of drawing.

Suzy offered to have him on a couple of episodes of Kitty Kat Gaming, but Arin said no. Going back to the grump space to kind of but not really work didn't feel right, and he wasn't even sure he would be able to do it. Being without Game Grumps, even if he did see the others outside of the office, felt at once like a relief from stress and a busy schedule, but also as if he was slowly hollowing himself out.

He missed Dan, but not more than he had expected. It was like when his glasses or phone got lost somewhere in the house, obviously close, but still a lack of something essential. On some days he caved into the emotion and called, and they would talk and Dan would make Arin laugh and he'd feel a little more on his way to fine.

 

When Arin returned to work, the others treated him like a prodigal son, which was unnecessary since he had seen most of them within the past week, but also funny, because Vernon and Jack had made a homecoming banner, and Ross shot some sort of glitter bomb on him from close range when he entered the door.

Brian hugged him for a long time, until it got a little weird, and then he hugged him a little longer. Ross and Barry chanted the happy birthday song, since it was the only celebratory one they could remember apart from the wedding march. Dan hugged him once inside, and once more when they were alone, and both of them lingered, but in the way they just did after not seeing each other for a while.

For days after, Arin proceeded to drag glitter around the office and his house. No scrubbing seemed to be able to fully get it away.

 

* * *

 

Arin thought that he and Dan were doing alright. They worked, they consumed way too much candy, and they still made each other laugh so hard that they cried.

Sometimes when he looked at Dan, he had to pause and catch his breath or clear his throat or cough. Occasionally when their eyes met they'd both have to look away in an instant.

 

“Suck it up,” Dan said one evening, under his breath and to the TV.

Arin knew it was meant for both of them.

He'd reach for Dan's hand when it became unbearable not to touch anymore, and that would shut up his far too loud thinking for a while. Arin knew Dan would mostly touch him while he was laughing, leaning in or reaching out to grasp Arin's arm, because that's when it felt the lightest.

 

One night, when the weeks had passed and they had all settled into a new kind of routine, Arin cracked open. He had been thinking a lot, during his leave and through long conversations with Dan which were about everything but what they wouldn't discuss out loud. It didn't feel like the best idea to comment on it, because Arin didn't want to let Dan go. But he didn't want to be selfish about it.

They were sitting quiet in the grump room, just Dan and Arin, because neither of them wanted to go home yet.

“You know, you can do better. And you should,” Arin said, looking at Dan.

“Shut up,” Dan said, instantly and with a sharp intake of breath. “I'll do whatever I goddamn please.” He moved so that his legs were draped over Arin's lap, his eyes fixed intently on Arin's face.

They never had that particular brand of argument again, and Dan didn't leave. Arin was grateful for that, but it hurt too.

 

* * *

 

“Can I just-?” Dan asked after a particularly long month, and Arin nodded, because they never needed to talk in full sentences about this.

Dan curled up as close as he could possibly get to Arin without also being on top of him. He breathed softly, resting his head against Arin's collarbone, face turned into Arin's skin.

“So Brian was telling me about this quantum physics thing called the many-worlds theory or whatever,” Dan said.

“Yeah?” Arin turned his head and resisted kissing Dan's forehead only by counting down from a hundred in his head.

“And apparently, I mean I probably don't remember this correctly at all but, apparently there's like, proof that quantum physics works, but only theories to just how it does it?” Dan spoke softly, probably, Arin suspected, reciting as exact parts as possible of what Brian had said. Arin nodded in encouragement for him to go on.

“And with this many-worlds one, what I got from it- was that it would mean that every possible outcome of every decision in our past, exists in another, parallel universe,” Dan said.

Arin looked down at the mess of Dan's hair, Dan's blanket-covered shoulder, at his own fingers splayed over his knee, at the dusty soles of his bare feet.

“Do you believe that?” Dan asked without looking up.

For a while, they were both quiet. Dan lifted his hand and placed it over Arin's chest, splaying his fingers over his heart.

“I have to,” Arin replied.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, all my love to MaryAnn, who puts up with so much from me. <3  
> Title is from 'Time of the Blue', by The Tallest man on Earth.


End file.
